


Brother, Father

by bunwing



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27512371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunwing/pseuds/bunwing
Summary: Felix returns to Fraldarius territory after the war has ended.
Kudos: 11





	Brother, Father

Salt stung Felix’s eyes as he stared at the waves. The sea broke dangerous and uneven, surging against the tall crags in tempestuous waves. There was little distinction between the harsh northern sky and the sea, the two merging together to form an endless grey and unwelcoming horizon. Situated on Fódlan’s northern coastline, Fraldarius territory was always prone to harsh weather. The shoreline was rugged and imperfect, weathered down and torn up by storms over thousands of years. Growing up, Felix had always been terrified of the cliff edges that skirted the fringes of Fraldarius territory. His father had always warned Felix and Glenn never to go to the edge alone, as they could easily slip and fall to their deaths. Jet black and shiny slick with sea spray, they loomed above the ocean, shadowy and jagged. As a child, Felix would close his eyes tightly as he drew his bedroom curtains at night, too afraid to look out at the horizon to see the rocks. They beckoned to him, silhouettes of crooked fingertips, daring him to come closer and tumble into the abyss. His sleep was plagued with nightmares of falling from the cliffs, his father and Glenn’s faces staring down at him, stony-faced. He always jolted awake moments before he crashed against the rough sea stacks, his skin glazed in a cold sweat and his eyes stinging. He would throw back the covers and dash out of his quarters, his small legs sprinting down the corridor as fast as he possibly could until he reached his father’s room, streams of tears staining his pale cheeks.

 _His father._ Rodrigue Fraldarius, known to his people as the Shield of Faerghus, never shied from extending such protectiveness to his own home. He would always wrap his arms around his youngest son, kissing the top of his head gently.

 _“As long as I am alive, I will never let anything happen to you,_ ” he would say each night as Felix heaved terrified sobs into his chest. _“And even when I am long gone, I will still be watching over you to protect you.”_ His father’s voice rang hollow now in Felix’s ears, an echo that grew louder until it was a bloody roar in his ears, drowning out even the tempest of the sea. He stepped carefully along the slippery clifftop, following the path that weaved along the coastline back towards the Fraldarius ancestral home. His childhood home.

The same home where his father used to chase him around, the peals of their laughter sounding through the corridors for friends, knights and servants alike to hear. Felix would dart around chairs and hide under tables, brandishing the wooden sword that Rodrigue had gifted to him. Yet his giggles would always give him away, and his father would always find him. He would hoist him onto his shoulders and parade him around for everyone to see as Glenn watched on quietly, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips.

“My two sons!” Rodrigue would proudly exclaim to anyone willing to listen. Servants, friends - even King Lambert knew of the love that Rodrigue held for his two sons.

The same home where his father used to read to him until he fell asleep. He would regale stories of knights and paladins, of bravery and heroism. It seemed bizarre that there was a time when Felix had wanted to hear those. He was an inquisitive and excitable young boy, full of emotion. A far cry from the isolated husk of a man standing now on the Fraldarius landscape.

The sound of his father’s voice. The echoes of their laughter. That was all lifetime ago - a world that Felix no longer recognised. Felix’s arms hung limply at his sides as he walked, his hands vacant. For the first time in five years, Felix bore no weapon. His sword - his closest confidant, lay abandoned in his room. The numbness that had begun to circulate through Felix’s body far outweighed the nakedness he felt without his weapon at his side. Besides, what was he worth anyway, now the war was over? After he had sacrificed everything for a new world? The wine-coloured flags of the Empire were hoisted high in the streets of Enbarr and far across Fόdlan. The allies he had sided with and fought alongside for the past five years were celebrating. But all Felix felt was exhaustion. He was racked with it. The guilty relief. The fatigue. The grief. He could not join in with their festivities for their pyrrhic victory. Instead he had returned north, driven by the ghosts that haunted him at night, compelling him to relinquish his title.

The blood in his veins felt glacial since he had arrived at his home territory for the first time in five years. Colder than the sea that roared below him - the sea that had terrified him for so many years as a child. It was almost laughable, really, in a twisted way. That he had been so scared of slipping and tumbling over the cliffs, falling further and further away from his home, from his father and brother. But now? He was the only one left. He had nothing left to lose anymore. He had fallen a long, long time ago. His father was not there to save him. He was not watching over him either, like he promised. Why would he, when his youngest son had stained the streets of Arianrhod with his blood?

Felix felt a corrosive bile bubbling at the back of his throat. What had he done? Who had he become? Had he really become a shadow of the person that he had spent years fighting against? That he had so vehemently condemned?

The sea roared and mingled with the head-splitting echoes of Rodrigue’s voice in his mind. He tried to clasp at the childhood memories of Rodrigue’s laughter instead. He tried to claw back the sound of his proud, booming voice. He tried to feel the ghost of Rodrigue’s warm embrace as he comforted him, but they all grew fainter and fainter, until only one remained.

_“It is a father’s duty to settle his child’s failures. Felix, you must die here and now.”_

Felix let out a sob, nauseous with the thought that he was anything like _him_. _The_ _boar_. But nobody was around to hear him. Nobody was there to comfort him. He had lost them all.

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever write something that isn't angst? no, i don't think i will.
> 
> follow me on tumblr! @faerghusfour
> 
> chapter 1 of sylvix fic coming soon


End file.
